Talk To Somebody
Gorgo, I struggle, I hunger, remake myself, my town, and, after all,
sink down into nothing.
Supporting voices filled a white she-goat and yelled, “Tell great
kings without warning we have neither honey nor the story of
growing up.” In a sheep’s voice, the God of War, wiping his
cheek:
“I would have liked for the day to be different.” Tell everyone the Big
Picture will cloak the argument. From heaven, Sharon—just as I
was saying “Yes”—said nothing. Sharon was aware it wouldn’t
take.